


Trust Exercises

by magisterpavus



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Post-Kings Rising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterpavus/pseuds/magisterpavus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen blinked. “Are you asking me what I want? In bed? With you?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Laurent stepped back so that only his fingertip rested on Damen’s chest, his hair falling into his face as he tipped his head to the side. “I know you like it simple, but there must be <em>something</em>.”</p>
<p>(sequel to Size King/the fic about Damen's blindfold kink)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Exercises

**Author's Note:**

> Like Damen, I'm a total slut for good communication and mutual comfort!
> 
> (oh, and blindfolds.)
> 
> Takes place a year and a half post-Kings Rising and six months after Size King~

Damen was an open book.

Unlike Laurent, he did not hide his feelings. He did not hide his desire, he did not hide his affection; he strove to be honest and honorable in all things, especially towards Laurent, who had experienced more deceit and distrust in his life than Damen could even imagine. 

And now that the war was over, and they both had their rightful thrones, and the unification of Vere and Akielos was in the works…there was far less need for the cold, secretive, detached side of Laurent that he had fashioned to shield himself from his uncle’s cruel machinations. 

Yet Damen knew that was a part of Laurent, a facet of his personality which could not simply be shed and tossed aside when the time was right. He knew that Laurent struggled to express himself even a fraction as much as Damen did, and Damen assured him time and time again that it was alright, and that change takes time and patience.

Truly, Damen had originally fallen for that Laurent – he still admired Laurent’s icy exterior and cool composure greatly, though when he found the softness and warmth beneath it, it was a pleasant surprise. And lately that pleasant side was making itself known more and more often.

Laurent seemed to always be up to something – whether political or personal, his mind simply would not rest, and at times Damen was exhausted just thinking about how busy he was. Laurent was quick and sharp of both wit and tongue, which made him a talented and respected ruler – in Council meetings, he verbally flayed his opponents; in the writing and signing of laws and treaties, he laid out his terms clearly and concisely with little room for disagreement; in issues of state, he came up with solutions so inventive and unexpected that few knew whether to think of him as a genius or a madman.

Damen was very proud.

Laurent had spent six months in Arles while Damen journeyed throughout Akielos reunifying the country and gaining favor and trying not to miss Laurent too much (and mostly failing on that count). It had gotten to a point where Damen spent so much time brooding and pining that Nikandros all but booted him out of Ios so he could return to his Veretian king. 

But when Damen had finally reached Arles (in the dead of winter no less), Laurent had been as cold as the falling snow, and Damen had feared that maybe the ice prince was not as thawed as he’d thought…only for Laurent to reveal that his schemes and games had extended into the bedroom. Damen had been expecting many things upon his arrival in Arles, but Laurent’s newfound fascination with sex toys was not one of them.

Damen wasn’t complaining. He was glad Laurent was comfortable enough with him to try new things and new ways to find pleasure. He was all too happy to indulge him, even though Damen had always approached sex in a rather straightforward manner. (Vannes called him “vanilla.” Damen did not understand how an orchid had anything to do with his sexual preferences.)

Six more months had passed since that glorious reunion, and after Laurent and Damen mutually agreed they would not be spending another long length of time apart, the capital was moved to Marlas. Damen was wary about suggesting it, but he needn’t have worried – Laurent agreed it had the best location strategically and said he’d always liked Delfeur anyway. So it was that they moved in together, ruling from the center while Vannes stayed in Arles and Nikandros in Ios to retain overall stability. 

And Laurent’s games continued. Their days were so busy that most nights both of them were too tired to do much more than curl around each other sweetly shortly before blacking out, but as the New Artesian Empire came together, Damen and Laurent did too. 

Laurent brought his toys with him to Marlas, and found other amusements to share with Damen – gold paint they got the sheets messy with, feathers that ended up driving them both to laughter instead of climax, teasing and delaying until Damen was ready to beg for it, doing other things besides bathing in the baths, even bringing their escapades outside of the bedroom despite Damen’s initial apprehension (he quickly got over it after Laurent came in record time).

Damen just played along, content to let Laurent dictate what they did most of the time, finding he enjoyed himself whenever Laurent did. It was always surprising and exciting to see what Laurent would come up with next.

Until one day, when Damen returned from a dull night meeting with Makedon over some border dispute only to find Laurent naked and handcuffed to the headboard of their bed. 

The door shut with a heavy thud behind him as he froze in his tracks. His jaw might have dropped, Damen wasn’t sure – his brain wasn’t exactly functioning fully at the moment.

Laurent tilted his head, amused, sprawled casually against the pillows, flexing his wrists in their golden manacles and raising an eyebrow. “Hello,” he said calmly, as if he was commenting on the weather and not making Damen’s head implode with a strange mixture of panic and arousal. Mostly panic.

Damen made a choked sound. “ _What_ …”

Laurent shrugged; the chains clinked with the movement, glittering in the lamplight. “What with slavery being outlawed, there’s so many extras just lying around. It’d be a shame to waste them.”

He was joking, but Damen’s breath caught, and not in a good way. He knew this game was not a particularly unusual one, and that the manacles were ornamental and easily broken, and that Laurent clearly wanted this…but Damen did not. Memories of being chained in the slave baths and wearing a heavy muzzle in his own palace and of days spent drugged in a dark ship hold came flooding back to him all at once, unbidden and unpleasant.

Damen did not know what expression he was making, but Laurent paused, his brow furrowing. “Have I shocked you into silence at last?” Laurent asked, still teasing. 

Damen shook his head, taking a step back. “No, I…Laurent, I won’t do this. I can’t.” His words came out harsher than he meant.

Laurent’s mocking demeanor faded. He blinked in confusion, cheeks coloring. “Oh,” he said in a small voice. “But I thought you liked…”

“No,” Damen cut him off firmly. 

Laurent frowned, fumbling with the cuffs and unlatching them, glowering down at the sheets. “If you didn’t like the bedplay, you could have just said so and spared me the embarrassment of prolonging it with a disinterested partner.”

Damen inhaled sharply. Laurent had misunderstood. He sighed. “Laurent. It’s not that. Your pleasure is my pleasure. But – chained? To a bed, like a disobedient slave?” Laurent’s eyes widened in realization. Damen swallowed and looked away. “I was chained once, and I feared those chains might never be broken. Once, I feared that…” He closed his eyes briefly. “I feared that I would be chained to your bed, used as the slave they forced me to be, restrained against my will like the beast you saw me as.”

There was a soft touch on his chest. Damen opened his eyes and Laurent was there, a robe thrown over his bare body, hand resting above Damen’s heart. “I’m sorry,” Laurent whispered, genuine remorse flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t think.”

“You are always thinking,” Damen said quietly, fondly. “Especially with these games of yours.”

“About what would please me, yes,” Laurent replied, sheepish. “Yet I realize I have never asked you.”

Damen drew Laurent into his arms. “You know me well,” he murmured. “Truthfully, before I was sent to Vere, I would have gladly gone to bed with a chained partner. The idea has some appeal.” Laurent laughed softly against his shoulder. “But I would have done many things then that I would never even consider now.”

Laurent looked up at him. “What would you consider now?” he asked. His eyes glinted, playful again. “These games need not be one-sided, you know. I am…somewhat open to suggestions.”

Damen blinked. “Are you asking me what I want? In bed? With you?”

“Yes.” Laurent stepped back so that only his fingertip rested on Damen’s chest, his hair falling into his face as he tipped his head to the side. “I know you like it simple, but there must be _something_.”

Damen’s mind had gone blank. Laurent, offering to do whatever Damen asked of him. It sounded ridiculous, yet Laurent was serious, and even seemed a bit curious as to what Damen would say. Damen swallowed, lifting a hand and cupping Laurent’s face, thumb stroking against the soft spot under his jaw, mouth going dry as Laurent leaned into it, gaze soft and dark and completely willing. 

There was such power in those eyes – they could glare so fiercely they made even the strongest man quake in his boots; they could become so empty, entirely devoid of emotion; and they could grow so gentle, unexpectedly kind and tender and that was when Damen felt as if he could drown in Laurent’s blue gaze. He always felt helplessly ensnared when Laurent looked at him like that, felt as if he would do anything Laurent asked him to, felt completely commanded and controlled by the unspoken desire shining bright and cool in Laurent’s eyes. 

But what if he could not see those eyes? And what if Laurent could not see him?

Suddenly another memory flashed through Damen’s mind, and it did not make him flinch back but rather press closer. He recalled a forest late at night, with Laurent at his side as they waited at strange, ancient ruins – and then the pounding of hoofbeats and the Vaskians surrounding them, then one of the women slipping a blindfold over Laurent’s eyes and Damen remembered how stunned he had been by the image. How bright Laurent’s hair had looked, how the attractive line of his jaw and neck had been emphasized, how Damen had been unable to look away from Laurent’s mouth, lips parted in silent acquiescence. 

Heat curled low in Damen’s belly. Laurent was watching him, the curiosity obvious now. But Damen could surprise him, too.

“Close your eyes,” Damen said, stepping away. 

Laurent smirked and did so, arms folded and brows raised. “For how long? Shall I count?”

“We’re not playing hide and seek,” Damen chuckled. 

“What a pity. Here I was just dying to know where someone as large as you could possibly fit.”

Damen grinned, light and silent on his feet when he came up behind Laurent, pressing against him enough to make Laurent gasp. “You know where I fit,” he said.

Laurent made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan. “Terrible,” he managed, breathless, “that was terrible. You should be ashamed.”

Damen nipped at his ear before stepping away again. “Should I?” Laurent did not answer, his head moving instinctively towards Damen’s voice. Damen walked away and Laurent paused, brows drawing together. Still, he said nothing, waiting with eyes obediently shut as Damen searched the room for something suitable. After a few minutes, during which Laurent’s steady breathing was the only sound, Damen returned to him with a black sash he’d found stuffed in the top drawer of the armoire. It would do the trick. 

Laurent’s breathing hitched when Damen stepped behind him again, and came out in a rush when Damen slipped the blindfold over his eyes and tied it neatly in place, walking around to admire his handiwork. Laurent was smiling slightly. 

“Okay?” Damen asked, wanting to avoid any more misunderstandings. 

Laurent’s smile twitched. “I knew there was something,” he said, and sounded smug. When Damen just waited, he huffed and added, “Yes, Damianos, this is fine.”

“Never thought you would miss an opportunity to say ‘adequate,’” Damen remarked dryly.

Laurent was holding himself very still. “This is…more than adequate,” he admitted. He licked his lips and Damen’s pants tightened. “What would you have me do?”

Damen took five seconds to collect himself, so that when he finally spoke his voice was firm and even. “Undress and get on the bed,” he said, voice low. “On your back, as you were before I got here.”

Laurent pushed the robe off of his shoulders, the silk pooling around his feet, and Damen marveled for a few moments at how impossibly beautiful he was, lean muscles flexing in his back and chest as he crawled smoothly onto the bed, finding his way by touch alone before settling expectantly against the pillows again. He kept his head down and tilted, listening. 

Truth be told, Damen did not really have a plan in mind. He was not like Laurent, who thought out everything five steps in advance – he took what he was given and made the most out of it. So as he undressed and approached the bed it was with no clear intent other than to give Laurent pleasure; to make this as enjoyable as Laurent had made all the other games. 

When Damen’s weight dipped the bed, Laurent’s legs parted easily to make room for him, and Damen was unable to suppress his groan at the sight – cool, reserved Laurent flushed and spread eagerly for him though he could not see or predict what Damen would do – trusting him completely. 

“At least I’ll always know where you are; you’re so loud,” Laurent murmured. 

“How am I supposed to react when I have you in my bed?” Damen countered. 

Laurent’s lips parted. “Touch me,” he said.

Damen ran his thumb over Laurent’s lower lip, pleased at his small jerk of surprise. Feeling brave, he slipped a finger into Laurent’s mouth, and Laurent’s lips closed around it, sucking the digit delicately. His tongue only brushed against it a few times, but when Damen withdrew the finger it was wet and shiny. Laurent’s breathing was heavier, and the flush was spreading down his chest. 

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Laurent asked, reaching out blindly and brushing his fingertips against Damen’s thigh. He said it with interest, and his lips were still parted. It was a clear invitation, and a rare one at that.

Damen paused, considering it. “Do you want to?”

Laurent’s head tilted, thoughtful. “Mm…come here. And don’t crush me.” He wrapped a hand around the back of Damen’s thigh, tugging him closer. Damen chuckled, shuffling forward compliantly until he was straddling Laurent’s chest, up on his knees with his hands gripping the headboard. Laurent made a soft sound and dipped his head forward, and Damen bit his lip when his cock brushed Laurent’s cheek. He was only half-hard, but it wouldn’t take long at this rate. 

“Ah,” Laurent said, smile still curling at his lips, “there you are.”

It was different, like this, Damen thought. It was…easier, somehow, more relaxed with both of them on the bed than when Laurent had been on his knees and Damen had been braced against the wall, afraid to move a single muscle. Like this, it felt more equal, because despite the blindfold Laurent was in control, hand tightening on Damen’s thigh and sliding up to palm his ass, the other hand curled around his cock. The sprawl of his body under Damen was loose and languid, just like the attentions he paid to Damen’s cock. 

He used his mouth occasionally, but only to press open, sloppy kisses to heated flesh, tongue sweeping lightly over the tip once or twice. Damen was more than happy with whatever Laurent was willing to give, and murmured wordless encouragement, mindful of keeping his hips still and his hands on the headboard. 

After a few minutes, Laurent lifted his head slightly and said, “You can touch my head, if you want.”

Damen’s cock twitched in Laurent’s grip and Damen knew Laurent must be rolling his eyes under the blindfold. “Are you sure –”

“Oh, go on,” Laurent said, smacking his hip lightly. “Just…no pushing. But…” He exhaled, breath feathering hotly over Damen’s cock. “Touch my hair. I like it when you…” Damen lifted a hand and carded it gently through Laurent’s golden locks. “Yes,” Laurent whispered. Damen’s fingers rubbed soothingly against his scalp, his brow, his jaw, and Laurent shuddered. “Yes, Damianos.”

Then Laurent leaned in and sucked Damen’s cock into his mouth, and Damen cursed, petting clumsily at Laurent as he sank down further, hollowing his cheeks and using his tongue, the sound of it obscene, especially when Laurent pulled off to breathe with a wet _pop_ , a string of saliva connecting his lips to the leaking tip. His cheeks were pink and his mouth was red and swollen and open and Damen moaned helplessly. “You’re close,” Laurent said, and it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Damen said, hand still in Laurent’s hair. “Laurent. _Fuck._ You look…”

Laurent swallowed. “Tell me.”

Damen wasn’t sure he had enough words to properly describe him, but he tried anyway, the words tumbling unchecked from his lips. “You’re…you’re beautiful, you’re always beautiful, but in a polished way – like a statue; untouchable, regal – that’s how everyone sees you, everyone but me; only I get to see you like this, messy and raw and warm and…” Damen stroked the curve of Laurent’s jaw, up and over the blindfold. “Loving,” he whispered. “I get to see you love me with all that you have, all that you are – and every time we make love I see another part of you and I realize I am the luckiest man in the world.”

The blindfold was damp under Damen’s fingertips.

Laurent’s voice was choked when he said, “I had no idea cocksucking could elicit such an emotional response. Perhaps I will have to do it more often.”

“Laurent,” Damen said, hopelessly fond, and he moved back, growing even fonder when Laurent made a dismayed sound at the loss of his heat, and then moaned with relief into Damen’s mouth when he kissed Laurent soundly. Laurent’s legs curled around his hips, and Damen could feel how hard Laurent was between them, leaking and slick. They were both close, and Damen could taste himself on Laurent’s tongue and he wanted to give him the same, wanted to slide down Laurent’s body and swallow him down until he spilled, wanted to kiss him everywhere and leave marks behind as proof, wanted to be inside of Laurent, to hold him and tell him everything that he felt for him and more.

But Laurent was a small hurricane against him, wrapping his body around Damen’s with unbridled desperation, his hips driving into Damen’s artlessly, and when Damen fit a hand around both of their cocks and moved with him, Laurent said his name like a prayer. His head fell back against the pillows, exposing the white expanse of his throat, and Damen set upon it with greedy lips, kissing and sucking tiny violet galaxies onto his pale skin, feeling Laurent’s pulse jump beneath his tongue. 

His legs hitched around Damen’s hips, heels digging into Damen’s lower back hard. He said Damen’s name again, gasped and strained as if he could barely breathe. “ _Damen_.” Damen was still cupping his face with his free hand and Laurent turned into it, nuzzling against his palm, panting. “Damen.”

Then his back arched and he came, trembling against Damen and clinging to his neck tightly as if to anchor himself. Damen had never thought of Laurent as fragile, but he almost felt like it in those moments of vulnerability, Damen’s knuckles sticky with the evidence of his surrender. Laurent moved up against him seconds after, rocking sweetly with him until Damen followed him with a satisfied groan. 

Neither of them moved for what felt like a long time, Laurent’s legs still tangled around Damen’s waist and arms draped around his neck, content. Damen pressed his face against Laurent’s throat and kissed it gently, as if to erase the bruises he had made there. Laurent shivered under him in silent pleasure, nails digging dully into Damen’s back.

Damen wished they could stay like this forever, loose-limbed and sated, basking in afterglow together without a care in the world. It was nighttime; perhaps they could fall asleep like this, and wake up groggy and mildly disgusted by their own laziness late the next day. It was a silly thought, and Damen was not sure Laurent would understand.

When Laurent began to stir under him, Damen rolled off obligingly, and with careful hands untied the blindfold, setting it aside. Laurent blinked up at him blearily, golden lashes wet and star-shaped, eyes blue as the sea, and Damen had not realized how much he’d missed them until then. He expected Laurent to leave to clean them up at once, but he did not. Small steps. 

“You look rather guilty,” Laurent remarked, rolling onto his side to face Damen. “Which is perplexing, since you have no reason to.”

Damen smiled, rueful. “I meant for that to last longer,” he admitted. “I wanted to make it good for you.”

Laurent smiled back almost shyly. “You did,” he said, “make it good for me.” He closed his eyes, sighing. “It was good.”

Damen kissed the tip of his nose and Laurent turned pink. “I’m glad,” he said. 

“You are insufferable, you know that?” Laurent added, his voice a little wobbly. “The worst.”

“Of course,” Damen said, and kissed him again. He brushed the dampness on Laurent’s cheeks away and knew Laurent felt it, but they said nothing of his tears. They both knew what they meant, anyway. 

Soon after, Laurent pulled away to get a cloth and water pitcher, leaving Damen half-awake on the bed. By the time Laurent returned with the wet cloth he was almost asleep, and when Laurent finished and climbed under the sheets with him, Damen made a drowsy, slurred sound. 

“What was that?” Laurent asked, glancing back at him over his shoulder.

“G’night,” Damen mumbled, kissing the back of his neck. “Love you.”

Laurent stilled, and if Damen had been facing him, he would have seen those cool blue eyes soften, shiny and wide in the darkness, filled with disbelief that he got to have this, with him, even after everything. Laurent hid his face against the pillows, swallowing back the unexpected lump in his throat. “Go to sleep, you sap,” he whispered back, and they both knew what he really meant.


End file.
